Clemency
by Razzella
Summary: "What is death like?" Madara Uchiha was not sorry. And somehow, he knew she wasn't either. [Oneshot]


SO. This happened, and I figured I may as well just write it all out of my system. Enjoy this character death.

Reviews and favorites are much appreciated.

c:

- Razz

* * *

No one would have ever called her cruel, she noted belatedly as she lay on the battlefield. However, she took pride in the fact she managed to bring down as many enemies as she had; it was the one time in her life she had fought with abandon.

Reckless abandon; it had felt amazing.

Tearing apart the enemy was much easier when she accepted she was going to die here. Her final battle had been a deciding one, and she had won. The bodies scattered through the craters of her making earned an almost feral grin. Naruto had the opening he had needed, and she had been able to take down an armies worth of enemies for his cause. A cause she believed in and fought for – and would now die for.

There was a faint crunching sound that alerted her she was no longer alone and the rosette looked up into the ringed eyes of their ancient foe. Her grin did not waver, though it slowly turned less animalistic the longer they held eye contact. He raised an eyebrow at her and a small smirk graced his features; she supposed since she was going to die and the traitorous thoughts would be going with her, she could admit he was a good-looking man.

Hell, all Uchiha were good-looking.

"I think your goal is honorable." The words tumbled from her mouth before she really gave any thought, but Hell, she was dying. "Not something I want any part in, but since I'm taking my leave of this life I figure it isn't such a bad idea."

"That's very selfish of you. Aren't you concerned for your friends?" Her laughter was only slightly choked at his amused tone before she responded.

"You'll have to kill them all first." She promised as her eyes fluttered slightly. It was getting harder for her to breath now, she noted dully. "I remember hearing stories about you," She wasn't sure where she was going with this, but she couldn't shut her mouth yet.

"About how awful I was, right?" He sneered and she chuckled, meeting his gaze again fearlessly.

"No," Her voice was getting quieter, no matter how hard she fought to keep it audible. "About how mistreated you were. I'm sorry, for everything you went through; I'm shocked you even give a damn about this world anymore." Her eyes closed as she felt herself fading; she missed the slightly surprised expression that had flittered onto his face. He stood there with her as the life began to fade, and had it not been so eerily silent he may have missed her speaking once again.

"Hey," Sakura croaked, her throat suddenly dry. She could still feel Madara there, and she was almost glad he hadn't left yet. Though she didn't want to admit it, she was afraid. Death was the unknown; she hadn't been able to ask any of the resurrected shinobi what it was like on whatever other side there was. She figured he was as good to ask as any of the others.

"What is death like?"

Madara felt a strange twist in his chest as he gazed down at the steadily paling pinkette. Her question unnerved him – particularly the way she asked it. She was exposing vulnerability to him as if they were old friends rather than enemies. It wasn't as disgusting as he tried to portray it to himself, and he felt an inaudible sigh leave his lips. He wouldn't lie to her. Not because he cared – she would be dead and he would be very much alive, so it wasn't as though he would ever know if he hurt her feelings – but because it was in his nature to be honest. Conniving, manipulative, yes, but also honest.

"It's like sleeping." He summarized, frown etching onto his face as her breathing grew shallow. "It's dark, but warm. Comfortable." There was a pause before he found himself kneeling beside her, awkwardly patting the hand that rested on her stomach. To his mild surprise she gripped his hand with so much force he almost didn't realize it was trembling; it occurred to him she was afraid.

"Don't be afraid." Madara chided himself inwardly for the softness in his voice, but her grip on his hand was slowly loosening and he knew she was going now. It wouldn't kill him to show a bit of mercy for a pink-haired girl dying alone.

"Good luck." The words were whispered in her final exhale and he almost felt regretful. Her hand was limp in his but he waited for another moment before a slight huff came from the male and he formed a few hand signs; her body vanishing from view in a small cloud of smoke. He stood easily before continuing on his way, well aware he had just alerted the Allied forces he had been inside one of their encampments and that they would consider his delivery of her body a mockery. But the strange pinkette would know the truth of it, and that was all he cared about.

Madara supposed she would be giving him that satisfied, sweet grin she was wearing when he found her; as he walked away he ignored the peculiar pang in his chest. He would mourn her in his private heart as one of the good ones in this otherwise damned world, but he was not sorry. She had been a threat to his plans - he was admittedly surprised at her admittance she didn't mind his ideals for the world as long as she was not part of it - and she needed to be taken care of.

Madara Uchiha was not sorry.

And somehow, he knew she wasn't either.


End file.
